I know that I can’t have you and I know it’s wrong of me to say, but I want you, I want all of you. I want to be the one who gets to kiss you on the mouth every single day. I want to be the one who gets to knock on your door and get swaddled in your arms. I want to be the one who gets to experience the bad with you, but especially the good. I want to be the one who’s making plans with you. I want to be the one who get to love you, love every tiny piece of you.
As much as I wish that was my job, it’s not, it’s hers.
So, I’ll just sit back and imagine from afar.
I’ll imagine the way you’d look at me like I’m the only girl in the world. I’ll imagine the way you’d talk to me when we’re alone at night. I’ll imagine the way you’d sleep by my side and the way you’d talk in the morning when your voice is all hoarse and groggy. I’ll imagine the way you’d look when you’re fresh out of the shower. I’ll imagine everything because it’s not my place to learn these things; no matter how bad I might want to.
As bad as I want to learn you as a person, I’ll also imagine keeping you as my dirty little secret.
I’ll imagine your hands on my face and running your fingers through my hair. I’ll imagine your lips on my neck and your body close to mine. I’ll imagine all the little words you’d string together that would make me want to pull you even closer. I’ll imagine being in your bed with you. I’ll imagine all the things I would want to do to you. I’ll imagine all the dirty texts I’d send you while you’re away at work during the day, just waiting for you to get home. I’ll imagine how you are in bed, when the desire is too much and I just couldn’t help myself but love you, love every inch of you.
You’ve got this thing about you, something that makes me want to throw my hands in the air and love you, but I won’t.
I would love to walk up to you without fear in my eyes and guilt in my heart and put my lips on yours, but I can’t. I can’t do that knowing I’d be breaking someone’s heart. I might be a lot of things, but I’m not a home wrecker and I’m not a slut.
So, I will keep admiring you from afar at a safe distance.
I’ll keep all the thoughts of you to myself, buried deep in my head where you’ve become my own little fantasy.
It feels wrong to think of you this way, but you just do something to me. You make me feel some type of way I can’t put my finger on and I don’t think I want the feeling to stop even if I could control it.
I’ll keep my distance. I’ll wonder what you’re like when you come home after work, I wonder what you’re like when you’re between the sheets, but those will always just be fantasizes and you’ll always just remain my dirty little secret because as wrong as loving you would be, imagining feels so right.